


Mistakes and Sour Grapes

by woakiees



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety, Dom Poe Dameron, Dom/sub, F/M, Fireworks, Friends With Benefits, Military Background, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Pet Names, Poe Dameron Needs A Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Restraints, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Scars, Service Dogs, Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:27:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23739061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woakiees/pseuds/woakiees
Summary: an au in which poe owns a bar and has the cutest little service dog named bee...and did i mention he falls for his newest bartender?
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Reader
Comments: 39
Kudos: 153





	1. Chapter 1

Bars weren’t really your thing.

Especially in a city that was typically known to be overrun with tourists at any given time of year.

They were crowded and loud, and you usually weren’t the biggest fan of the style of music blaring through nearly shot speakers, and you definitely weren’t a fan of the headache you’d often suffer with afterwards from the absurd amount of bass they deemed necessary. They smelled bad, they were dark and dingy and gross, and many patrons were less than respectful and showed little regard after knocking back a few drinks.

It _really_ wasn’t your thing.

But you had a friend who worked as a bartender at a small brewery and local restaurant, and _that_ was definitely more your speed, and honestly the only time you did end up sitting at a bar. Most Friday and Saturday nights, you found yourself practically drooling over a plate of delicious food and, depending on your mood, either a beer or a cocktail while making smalltalk with Finn as he worked. And most of the time, you’d end up the last customer in the building, staying late to help Finn put away glasses or wipe down the counter, partially so he could get out of there faster, but mainly because you just enjoyed spending your time there.

It was one of those nights now, where you were behind the bar, a rag in your hand as you wiped water droplets from still warm tumblers while Finn worked on the wine glasses.

“I’m telling you,” Finn said from behind you. “You’d make more money bartending here.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully as you peeked over your shoulder towards him.

“I _have_ a job,” you reminded him for the hundredth time in the last ten days. Ever since another bartender had put in their two weeks, he had been trying to convince you to put in an application.

“Yeah, a shitty one. Come on, I could move out to the beer garden, you could take over in here. It would be absolutely _perfect_.”

You laughed, shaking your head almost teasingly. “Perfect for your schedule maybe.”

“And for yours! Look, you hate waking up early. If you worked here, you could sleep in until noon if you wanted. And we’d be _coworkers_. What more could you ask for in a job?”

You rolled your eyes again, turning back to the look at the tumbler in your hand, falling back into a comfortable silence.

One that didn’t last long by any means, for Finn was apparently damned and determined.

“I mean technically, you’re already working. Might as well get paid to do it.”

“Putting away glasses is hardly working.”

“You’d get tips nightly instead of having to wait every other week for a paycheck. And did I mention you’d make more?”

“Might make more, but it’s not consistent.”

“You like the vibe up here. You like the building.”

Now there was a point that you would actually consider.

You _did_ like the vibe.

It was laid back, relaxed while still being a more refined atmosphere. Most people who sat at the bar were corporate workers or couples, just looking to have a drink and a good meal after a long day, and the other restaurant goers were typically families.

The building itself was just a year away from turning two hundred years old, and the history behind it intrigued you to no end, including the fact that it was said to be the most haunted building in the city. That was something you were _entirely_ into.

You hesitated, tilting your head to the side and gnawing on your bottom lip.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“ _Maybe_.”

His response came in the form of a bar towel snapping through the air and hitting the back of your thigh, and you yelped before dissolving into a fit of laughter, thankfully having just set the last tumbler in its place. You were pretty sure you would have dropped it had it still been in your hands.

Finn hung the last wine glass just after — his last task for the night, and you were ready to make your escape, but before you could even push back from the counter he was reaching around you for two of the tumblers you had just put away.

“Okay, we’ve gotta take a shot to celebrate, and we’re makin’ it a double.”

You laughed again, the sound completely exasperated yet so amused at the same time. “Finn, I didn’t say yes. And even if I put in an application, I’m not guaranteed to get it.”

“Oh you’re gettin’ it alright,” he snorted, shaking his head. “I’ll beg if I have to. Now what are we having?”

“You’re still on the clock.”

He narrowed his eyes playfully, whipping his head around dramatically, quite literally spinning in place, arms open wide as he gestured to the empty restaurant. “And who the hell is going to care? I’ll just put it on your tab.”

A third laugh, and a reason Finn was your best friend. He could always make you fucking laugh. You raised your hands in mock surrender.

“Now what are we having?” he repeated his prior question, quirking an eyebrow.

You thought about it for a moment, drumming your fingers along the countertop, lips pursed. “Chocolate cake shots.”

“Excuse me, _what_?”

“What kind of bartender are you?”

“A shitty one apparently,” he scoffed, his eyebrow raising just a fraction higher. “Now explain.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s one part vodka, one part Frangelico, and-”

“-and a sugared lemon on a sugared rim.”

You jumped, and Finn nearly dropped the glasses as a new voice echoed throughout the room, but you watched as he quickly relaxed, a look of recognition crossing over his face.

He turned slowly, the action conveying mock annoyance, and you peeked around him, glancing towards where the voice had come from.

A man with short salt and pepper curls and tanned skin was walking down the staircase, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans and a smug smirk tugging at his lips. A noise caught in your throat, one you wouldn’t have even been able to begin to describe, and Finn managed to catch it, glancing back towards you for just a brief second before turning his attention back to the man approaching.

The undeniably handsome, gorgeous, _breathtaking_ man in an olive green hoodie with the sleeves pushed up mid-forearm, a good two day’s worth of stubble covering his jaw. A small scar on his cheek. Big brown eyes.

Were you staring? Fuck, you were totally staring.

You were totally fucking staring, and he totally fucking caught you, and wait, maybe he was staring back and had his cheeks been pink the whole time?

“Of course you’re still here. Do you ever leave or did you convert one of the rooms upstairs into an apartment?”

“There’s an idea,” the man chuckled, tearing his gaze away from you, and you felt a small amount of air flood back into your lungs.

You were still staring though, blatantly so, and you couldn’t even find the shame to stop yourself. You watched as his eyes fluttered back over to you, quickly, for a mere second before he eyed the tumblers in Finn’s hand, quirking an eyebrow.

“She wanted to buy me a drink and it would’ve been rude to turn a customer down,” Finn deadpanned, and you couldn’t help but snort.

The man shrugged, leaning against the counter opposite of you. “Make it three.”

“Yes _sir_.”

Finn grabbed a third glass after setting the first two down, not taking his eyes off of what he was doing as he nodded towards you, saying your name.

“This is Poe Dameron, the owner. Dameron, you are now in the presence of my best friend in the entire galaxy.”

He repeated your name, and Poe smiled, pushing off the counter and extending a hand out to you.

“S’nice to meet you.”

You nodded, your cheeks suddenly feeling a touch warmer than they had been before as you took his hand in yours, shaking it firmly. “You too.”

He smiled again, nodding his head, holding onto you for just a second longer than what would be considered customary before letting go. He stayed next to you though, folding his arms across his chest as he glanced towards Finn again.

“Now, why are we taking shots?”

“Because she’s,” Finn said, pointing a finger towards you, “applying for the open bartender position.”

Poe raised an eyebrow, turning his attention towards you. “Is that right?”

Your blush only intensified as you noticed those big brown eyes of his flutter quickly over your body, just once, for just a split second. You nodded.

“Have you ever bartended before?”

“Not really,” you admitted, just a hint of a nervous edge in your voice.

Poe shrugged. “Fast learner?”

You nodded again, and Finn spoke before you had a chance to.

“And she apparently already knows more than I freakin’ do. Chocolate cake shots, what the hell?”

“Trust me,” you said, a small chuckle following.

Poe smirked again. “It tastes exactly how it sounds.”

Finn shook his head, adding the sugared lemons to the finished drinks before passing them out.

“You gotta hold the lemon juice in your mouth while you take the shot though,” you added, already taking the wedge off the rim.

Poe nodded, following your actions. “If you don’t, you’ll ruin it.”

You and Poe took your shots first, Finn watching before throwing back his own, his eyes widening in surprise as the liquid ran down his throat.

“Holy shit, you weren’t lying.”

“Have I ever led you wrong?” you laughed, wiping at a stray drop of vodka and Frangelico that ran down your chin.

You could feel Poe staring at you as you did so, and you chose to ignore it, and this time, you attributed the blush on your cheeks to the alcohol slowly moving through your veins.

You reached for Poe’s glass, grabbing Finn’s as well before moving to clean them, just as an excuse to put a little distance between you and Poe. You heard the two of them quietly talking, about what, you didn’t know, couldn’t hear over the running water, and only when the glasses were clean and back in their place did you tune back in.

“Where’s Bee?”

Poe shrugged. “She’s around here somewhere.”

“Who’s Bee?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, looking between the two men in front of you.

“His lady,” Finn chuckled, his answer earning him a sharp jab to the ribs and a small snort from Poe.

Oh, so he was taken?

Figures. A man so beautiful certainly had a woman just as gorgeous on his arm.

Before you had a chance to say anything further, Poe whistled, the sound loud and echoing off the walls, and you jumped for the second time that night. Just ten seconds later, the clattering of nails across hardwood could be heard throughout the restaurant, and a big, white German Shepherd came bounding around the corner of the bar, practically jumping into her owner’s arms.

“Oh hello there sweet girl, were you taking a nap downstairs again?” Poe cooed, scratching the large dog behind her ears.

Bee whined affectionately, her tail wagging erratically. You flushed, laughing at yourself just a little bit for how your mood had taken a hit at the idea of him being taken. You had known him for less than ten minutes.

You watched the two interact for a few seconds, your arms folded loosely over your chest.

“You can pet her if you’d like.”

“Oh how could I ever turn down such an offer?”

You immediately knelt onto the ground, ready and eager to be attacked by the big floof of white fur, but Bee didn’t turn her attention away from her owner, causing you to over exaggerate a pout and Poe to laugh.

“Bee, you’re not working right now sweetheart.”

You looked up at him, tilting your head to the side just a fraction. “Working?”

“Service dog,” Poe shrugged, a mannerism you were quickly learning was signature. “Even when she’s not wearing her vest she likes to think she’s on call.”

You stayed quiet for a couple of seconds, knowing not to pry but also not knowing exactly how to respond.

“She seems to be good at her job,” you settled on finally.

Poe chuckled quietly, nodding his head, not offering up an explanation himself, but that was to be expected. You were still mere strangers.

“Go say hi.”

Bee nuzzled her nose into Poe’s chest before dropping back down onto all fours, finally turning her attention to you. She ignored your outstretched hand, immediately going for your face, licking your cheek and pawing at your thighs. You giggled, stroking the dog down her back, scratching every now and again.

“I think I might steal her,” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows as you glanced up.

Poe only laughed, and you spent several minutes merely petting and playing with Bee behind the bar, giving Poe the opportunity to sneak back upstairs and grab her vest — an orange one with the words “service dog” printed onto the side.

“What’s your schedule like next week?” he asked, giving a short whistle after that immediately made Bee pull away from you, sitting patiently as she waited for her owner to slip her vest on.

You shrugged. “I work in the mornings but otherwise I’m free.”

“Ew, mornings,” Poe mumbled, scrunching up his nose before shaking his head. “Think you can come by Monday night so Finn can start training you?”

Finn let out an excited yelp, and you could only blink.

“Wait, like, train as in…I have the job? Just like that?”

“If you don’t burn the place down Monday night and you enjoy yourself, then yeah,” Poe chuckled. “It’s yours.”

You bit your lip, and you wouldn’t have been able to hide your smile regardless of how hard you tried.

“I’m down, Dameron.”

He smiled right back, holding out his hand for you to shake while also simultaneously pulling you off the floor, and you would’ve crashed into your chest had you not braced yourself against the counter with your free hand.

“Welcome aboard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi hi <3 i'm reallyyyyyy unsure about this considering it's so different from my other works (way more dialogue, less outstanding emotion), so any feedback is...beyond appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

Training with Finn was an absolute breeze. It didn’t take much, really, given how much of your free time had been spent up there. You were familiar with both the drink and dinner menu, and you knew where most things behind the bar could be found. Your biggest challenge was learning how to use the POS system, and even that came easy enough.

Monday night he had you watch for the most part, and after last call, he spent over an hour showing you step by step how to make the brewery’s signature cocktails. You had always been fast when it came to making drinks, something that you hadn’t exactly realized until Poe wandered down from upstairs, doublechecking that you had never bartended before. He had been impressed, and so had Finn, and that night when the three of you found yourselves the only ones left in the building again, you celebrated with more shots.

Tuesday, Finn did most of the watching. Same for Wednesday. Thursday was the first night you had the bar to yourself, and it went so smoothly, even you were impressed with yourself.

That had been a few weeks ago now, and you were only improving. It came so naturally, you thought you might be able to make a White Russian and recite the dinner specials in your sleep.

Working with Finn proved to be as fun as he had promised. He was enjoying being out in the beer garden, and on busier nights, inside with you.

You didn’t see Poe very often. He usually arrived before you, staying upstairs for most of the night, letting the managers do their jobs and supervise, and the nights he did leave before you, he would simply nod and give you a small smile.

He kind of kept to himself, you noticed, and while part of you wanted to get to know him, become closer with him, the other half of you appreciated his reclusive behavior. He was your boss, and there was no way for you to deny the fact that you found him extremely attractive. Spending more time with him would only complicate things, if only for yourself.

You couldn’t like him. A man like that would never return your affections.

You shook your head, as if the action would clear the thoughts from your mind. You refused to give into self pity, especially when you were on the clock.

It was a Saturday night, and while the dinner rush was over, the bar was still busy, only a couple of seats open, a few people standing off to the side, seeking to take advantage of the city’s open container policy.

Finn had been there earlier in the night to help with the steady flow of customers, but he’d been called outside after your coworker tending the beer garden had to leave for the night. You had been good at keeping a steady pace, getting drinks and putting in orders quickly and efficiently, but it didn’t seem to be slowing down. Not that you exactly minded, it kept you busy. Kept the wallowing and the want from bubbling up deep in the pit of your stomach.

But then you turned and came face to face with the source of that desire, only stopping for a second as you looked him over, leaning against the bar with his arms folded across his chest and a look on his face that you couldn’t quite place. Something close to uncomfortable, maybe just a tad nervous? You didn’t know, didn’t have time to figure it out. You smiled at him quickly, glancing down towards Bee who was standing attentively at his side in her orange vest. She was working, but so were you. Neither of you had the time for a quick scratch behind the ears.

“You doing okay?” you asked, turning your attention back to the selection of alcohol in front of you. You hesitated, for just a second, trying to remember which vodka your customer had requested. Tito’s? Grey Goose? You went with Tito’s.

Poe hummed, and you missed the way his eyes scanned the crowded bar before settling back on you, watching you work on a Bloody Mary. “Figured I’d come and help you.”

“You don’t have to.” You still didn’t look up.

He was already moving to wash his hands, his beloved dog following him closely — the two always in sync. “Tell me who you need me to grab.”

You glanced towards him, shaker in your hand as you finished the drink, pouring it into a glass and garnishing it before delivering it to the customer. “If you wanna take the to-go orders?”

“On it,” he said, nudging your hip with his as you passed.

The two of you worked quietly, and together, you quickly brought the bar back down from its hectic state to something that one person could easily manage, but even then, Poe didn’t sneak back upstairs. He stayed, taking over one side of the bar while you worked the other, the two of you brushing hands every now and again when you would reach for the same bottle or pass a glass off.

Even after last call, he stayed with you, helping you clean and tend to your closing duties until you were the only two left in the building — Finn had snuck out after shooting you a quick thumbs up that had you blushing.

You still didn’t talk much, only making a small comment here or there, but he seemed a lot more relaxed than he had been earlier in the night, when the bar was still busy.

Poe sighed, stretching his arms above his head before rounding the bar and finding a stool to plop into. He had let Bee out of her vest, and she had almost immediately taken off, presumably to find somewhere warm to curl up and take a nap.

You finally allowed yourself a second to relax, taking a sip from your water, running a hand through your hair, a soft sigh leaving your lips. Your feet were starting to ache — something you never realized until you finally slowed down for the night.

“Come sit,” Poe said, scooting out the seat beside him as if he could read your mind. “Don’t worry about clocking out yet.”

You didn’t hesitate to take him up on his offer.

His eyes followed your form as you took your seat, taking another long sip from your water, hoping your hair was in your face enough to cover your pink cheeks that were slowly turning red. Maybe you could blame it on your constant movement rather than the fact that he was making you blush.

“You’re doing really well,” he said after a moment or two spent in silence. “I’m impressed.”

You smiled gently, glancing towards him for only a second before turning your attention back to the bottle in your hand. “I work well under pressure.”

If you had been actually looking at him, you would’ve noticed the way he shifted in his seat, and the way he bit his bottom lip, not being able to stop his mind wandering towards another possible implication of your words.

“Good,” he mumbled, clearing his throat. “That’s good.”

More silence — not exactly comfortable, not exactly awkward. Just silence.

You were the first to break it again.

“How long have you owned the brewery?”

“Only like, three years now,” Poe shrugged. “Bought it when the last owner didn’t want it anymore. Got it for a fuckin’ steal.”

“What’d you do before this?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but hesitated for just a split second, looking almost conflicted with himself. “I was in the military,” he said finally, shrugging again.

Both his tone and his facial expression made it obvious that he didn’t want to talk about it, so you didn’t push it further. You quickly searched for something, anything else to talk about. You turned towards him.

“Did you like, have a dream of owning a bar or did it just kind of happen?”

He looked thankful for the change of subject, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction as some of the tension left his body.

“I just kind of saw the opportunity and jumped on it,” he explained, turning in his own seat to better face you. “I used to hang up here like you did, got to know the old owner and shit. I think he cut me a deal when he sold it to me, honestly. Knew I’d take care of the place.”

“I’d say you’d make him pretty damn proud.”

He smiled gently, nudging your knee with his, just once.

“What about you?” he asked after a couple of seconds. “Any dreams?”

“I’m still trying to figure out what I wanna do,” you admitted, looking almost a little sheepish. “I tried a couple of things out in college and just...none of them fit, y’know?”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.”

His face was sincere, eyes regarding you carefully, and for once, you didn’t feel embarrassed to admit that you had dropped out of college. That you had no idea what you wanted to do in the long run. It made you smile.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, nudging him gently.

He only smiled, nodding his head once before sighing, his hands hitting the counter as he stood. “Wanna take a couple of shots with me?”

You quirked an eyebrow, a soft chuckle falling from your lips. “You take shots with all of your employees often?”

“Nope.”

He was already heading back behind the bar, snagging two shot glasses before setting to work. You watched him quietly, your gaze fluttering between his hands and his face, thankful that he seemed to be oblivious to your blatant staring.

He was quick, and in just a few seconds you had a bright blue shot being pushed towards you.

“Blue kamikaze?”

“Absolutely,” he chuckled, holding his glass out to you.

You knocked yours against his before you both took your shots, wiping at a stray drop that dribbled down your chin. You sucked it off your finger afterwards, and now Poe was the one blatantly staring, and you caught him, your cheeks turning a subtle shade of pink.

He didn’t look ashamed in the least, simply grabbing a few bottles and making his way back to his seat, starting on a second round.

A second turned into a third, and a third into a fourth.

And pretty soon, the two of you were giggling together, talking about anything that came to mind, seats huddled closer together. Did his hand brush against your thigh? You couldn’t tell. You were too busy staring at his face again.

“Is the building really haunted?” you asked through a small laugh, tilting your head to the side.

He hummed, nodding his head. “I didn’t believe in that sort of thing until I bought the place. Being upstairs by myself is fucking creepy, and I hate the basement. I dunno how Bee sleeps down there.”

“I’ll admit, I’ve watched all of the stupid ghost shows and shit,” you chuckled, biting on your bottom lip.

“Oh, so you’re into that kind of stuff?”

You nodded, swiveling gently in your chair, still gnawing on your lip. Poe looked at you closely, tilting his head to the side as he seemed to be considering something for just a moment or two.

“Did you wanna walk around with me?”

You hummed, pretending to think about it. “Are you gonna let me hold your hand if I get scared?” You blamed your new boost in confidence on the alcohol swirling through your veins.

He snorted. “I might grab your hand first.”

“Then _duh_.”

You both stood, only a little wobbly on your legs, making your way upstairs first, letting him lead but staying close behind.

His office was on the second floor, but other than that, nothing else had been touched. The third and fourth floor were completely unrenovated, and he was absolutely right — it was very creepy. He quietly told you the history of the building, how it had once been the only hotel in the city, and later a makeshift hospital during the Yellow Fever epidemic. He went on to share the different stories he had acquired during his time there as you moved through the different floors, and you were sure you could have listened to him talk for hours. His tone was passionate, and it was obvious in how he spoke with his hands that he was actually interested in sharing this with you. His voice was almost enchanting.

You saved the basement for last, scratching Bee behind her ears once you both reached the bottom of the stairs where she was fast asleep. Unlike the upper levels, it had been renovated into a space that could be booked for private events. You’d been down there before plenty, had tended to the bar during one of those said events just a few days before, but it still sent a shiver down your spine as you walked around, continuing to listen to Poe talk.

He stopped by the bar, leaning up against it, a playful yet mischievous smile on his lips. “Is the offer to hold your hand still on the table?”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, and you started to gnaw on your bottom lip again before extending your hand out towards him, letting him take it. You were unprepared for him to tug on it, causing you to crash into his chest, your free hand shooting out to brace yourself against his body. Poe quirked an eyebrow.

“Is this okay?”

You had to think about it. Actually had to think about it.

It felt fucking perfect, _he_ felt fucking perfect. But he was also your boss, and you both had been drinking. You didn’t know about him, but you definitely had a nice little buzz going. It wasn’t right. Even if you were sober, it wouldn’t be right.

But that buzz was probably the reason you nodded your head, your eyes flickering from his eyes to his lips.

“Good.”

Poe flipped your positions suddenly, pinning you up against the bar with his hips flush against yours, trapping you between his arms, his lips dangerously close to yours.

You wanted them closer, wanted him closer.

“You can do more than hold my hand. If you want.”

He chuckled lowly, his eyes full of amusement as he let them trace down your body before finding yours again, his head tilting to the side. “That was sort of my plan.”

And as the last word left his mouth, you got what you wanted.

His lips were so close they were touching yours, kissing yours.

And you kissed him back.


	3. Chapter 3

He kissed you and he kissed you and he kissed you until breathing became an afterthought, until you believed you’d be able to survive on his kisses alone and let the taste of his lips sustain you from that moment on. Until the only thing running through your mind was _him him him_ and _more more more_.

He had one hand on your hip while the other found a spot on the back of your neck, gripping you tightly, guiding your movements. He pulled you closer, and you could still taste the Tito’s and a hint of lime on his tongue as it slid across yours, but deeper than that was another taste — one that was so entirely and completely him. So blatantly obvious, so easy to recognize regardless of the fact that you had never kissed him before tonight, had never really been that close to him until just now. It took over your every sense, and your body begged to have him closer.

The smell of cigarette smoke clung to the leather jacket you hastily pushed away from his shoulders, and the moment it hit the floor, your hands were wandering over his tight black t-shirt, feeling over his chest, his arms, letting your nails drag across his shoulder blades and up to the skin at the back of his neck and-

Poe reached for your wrist the second your fingers brushed over a small bit of puckered skin there, breaking your kiss, but you could still feel his breath warm against your lips. Your eyes slowly fluttered open, meeting his intense brown ones, and if you hadn’t been breathing before you certainly weren’t breathing then.

He only stared at you for a moment or two before guiding your fingers into his hair, letting you weave them between the strands, his eyes fluttering shut once again. His message was clear. You weren’t allowed to touch the back of his neck, but he still wanted to feel your hands..

You wanted to ask, wanted to ask him how he got that scar and why he didn’t like it being touched, but you knew better.

And so, rather than killing the mood entirely, you brought his lips back to yours, leading the kiss this time around, though not for very long. Poe was a dominating presence in every sense of the word — it was obvious that he liked being in control, hated not having it. That had been apparent to you the second he trapped you against the bar. He craved power, but not in a twisted, controlling way that made your skin crawl.

It did the complete opposite.

It made you clench your thighs. It made you search for some kind of delicious friction, something to ease the ache that was starting between your legs. It made you moan against his lips and pull at his hair. It made you crave him, a fire burning so deep in your abdomen — an entirely new feeling you had never experienced before. You had never wanted someone so badly.

And what made it better was that he apparently wanted you just as bad, felt that same desire swirling in the pit of his stomach like a caustic, unrelenting hurricane. He needed it just as much as you did, it was obvious in the way that he _growled_ when you tugged at his curls and how he was already working to push your shorts down your legs, not bothering to unbutton them.

Another moan escaped you when his fingers met the front of your panties, your cheeks heating up when he pressed hard against your clit, though after he kept his hand completely still. You whined, bucking your hips, searching for some kind of actual stimulation. He smacked your thigh.

“You’ve practically ruined these panties baby, you’re so fucking wet already. I’ve barely even touched you.”

His words shot straight through you, straight to your core, and you bucked your hips again, needing him to move his fingers, to give you _something_. He landed a second smack to the same spot on your thigh, his eyes stern yet cautious, wanting to be absolutely positive that you were into what he was doing.

Poe took the almost desperate look in your eye and the wanton moan that fell from your lips as his answer, the sound making his cock twitch in his jeans.

A third smack, and along with it, his fingers disappeared completely. You whimpered, closing your eyes in frustration, your hips bucking yet again, almost chasing after him. He tsked.

“You haven’t earned that yet, sweet girl.”

He flipped you around suddenly, your hips colliding with the counter so forcefully you knew it would leave a bruise, but you didn’t care — you liked it. You liked that he was being rough with you, that he was showing you what he liked, how he liked it, so unabashedly, without any hesitation.

Poe pressed his hips against your ass, and you could feel how hard he was as he ground himself into you, encouraging another moan to fall from your lips.

“You feel that baby? You feel what you do to me?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you lost all ability to speak, to think, his words mixed with the throbbing between your legs rendering you completely speechless.

But he didn’t like that you didn’t answer. His hand came forward, smacking hard against your ass, the sound reverberating off the brick walls around you. The noise that finally left you was somewhere between a cry and a moan, and you could hear him grunt behind you as he pressed himself further into you.

“Are you going to take care of it for me sweetheart?”

All of the different pet names were swirling around your head, and you knew later you would question them, but in the moment, they only added to the want pulsing through your body.

“Yes.”

Another smack, right to the middle, his fingers hitting your still clothed cunt just barely, but enough to make you jolt forward with a small whine.

“Yes _what_?”

Fuck, what did he want you to call him? Daddy? Sir? Mr. Dameron? Master?

“Yes sir?” you tried, peeking back at him.

The mischievous glint in his eye told you that you had gotten it right, but it soon morphed into something else, something that made you want to clench your thighs, but you wouldn’t dare. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to obey, to give him what he wanted.

He took a step back, giving you enough room to turn around and sink down onto your knees, his hands finding his hips as he gazed down at you with that same expectant look. This time you did clench your thighs, though it went unnoticed as you merely played it off as trying to get comfortable.

Your hands found his belt, and you didn’t feel the need to look at him for permission as you started to unbuckle it, working it through the loops. You were about to toss it off to the side when he held out his hand, silently asking you to hand it off to him. A shiver rolled down your spine.

Poe took the belt from you, holding it for only a second or two before setting it on the bar behind you, and the look that crossed his face conveyed his thoughts perfectly — maybe he’d use it later, maybe he wouldn’t. It gave you goosebumps, made your stomach flip in the best possible way.

You swiftly undid the button on his jeans, pulling on the zipper and tugging the pants halfway down his muscular thighs that you braced yourself on, your nose nuzzling into the front of his briefs, giving him only a hint of friction that you were still so desperately searching for yourself. Maybe he’d become so lost in what your mouth could do he wouldn’t notice you slipping your own hand into your panties.

He hummed when he felt your lips start to mouth at his still clothed cock, his head tilting to the side, the simple action almost commanding in itself. He wanted more.

And of course, you were more than happy to give him what he wanted.

You dipped your fingers into the waistband of his briefs, hesitating this time, silently asking him for permission as your eyes never left his intense brown ones. He gave you a small nod, breaking character for just a moment to offer you a small smile that made your heart flutter in your chest.

Your heart rate only picked up when you pulled his briefs down to meet his jeans. You hated being that person that called a dick beautiful, but fuck, you couldn’t think of a better word to describe Poe’s. Thick, veiny, big. His tip was red and leaking, his cock begging to be touched, and you might’ve subconsciously licked your lips, earning a groan from the man above you.

“Fuck,” Poe hissed the second he felt your spit covered hand wrap around his shaft, your hand starting to slowly stroke his length, your tongue darting out to kittenlick at the small pearl of precome. “Fuck, you look so fucking good on your knees for me.”

You hummed, laying the head of his cock flat against your tongue, staring up at him with wide eyes full of a mock innocence that had his head spinning with lust. He groaned, sliding himself further into your awaiting mouth, watching your face intently as your lips wrapped around him.

He thought he could die a happy man right then and there, and you hadn’t even done anything yet.

You let your tongue swirl around him before you hollowed your cheeks, starting to bob your head, taking only an inch or two of his shaft before you surprised him by pushing yourself down as far as you could go, letting him fill your mouth completely. But you didn’t stop there, you took a deep breath and pushed forward even further, letting him slide into your throat, tears automatically springing into your eyes

His jaw dropped, his mouth forming a perfect “o” as his hips bucked, and his hands moved into your hair, holding you still, relishing in the sensation of you gagging around him. And the sound — it only further encouraged him, only made him crazier for your touch.

Poe started to thrust into your mouth, and you eagerly took everything he gave you, your eyes never once leaving his face as you watched it twist in pleasure.

He was so sensitive. He couldn’t believe he was so sensitive and part of him almost hated how closely he was approaching his end, how easily you could bring him there. No one had been able to make him come so quickly before.

He wondered if you’d swallow. He was willing to bet that you would, and fuck, he wanted to find out, but he also didn’t want to finish in your mouth, not then. Maybe another day.

Sliding out of your mouth, he gripped your hair just a little tighter in one of his fists, pulling your head back so you would be forced to look up at him. You moaned at the pinprick sensation that bloomed across your scalp.

He kept his gaze locked on your face, seeming to contemplate something for a moment or two, lips pursed, his facade slipping yet again as he adopted a rather softened expression.

“Can I tie your hands?”

You froze. You’d never been restrained during sex before, not that the idea didn’t intrigue you entirely. Not that it didn’t make you need to clench your thighs again, chasing after some sort of relief, anything to dull the relentless throbbing. But did you trust him?

“Yes.”

He smiled almost reassuringly, nodding his head once before letting go of your hair, reaching for his nearly forgotten belt. Now you understood why he wanted it.

“Go bend yourself over the pool table,” he said, quickly regaining his persona, his eyes hardened, jaw clenched.

You quickly obliged, rising to your feet and making your way into the next room while Poe pulled his pants back up to his hips, following after you. You let your fingers trail over the wooden edge of the pool table, the hair on the back of your neck standing straight up as you sensed him stop a few feet away, merely staring at you again.

“Take your shirt off.”

It was a command, but you knew that he wouldn’t really make you — he understood that being naked added another sense of vulnerability, one that he wouldn’t indulge in himself just then, and he was already taking so much by restraining you.

But you wanted to, and you quickly pulled your work t-shirt over your head, dropping it beside you, reaching behind yourself to unclasp your bra, but your hands were suddenly smacked away only to be replaced by Poe’s. He undid the fastenings, letting his fingers slide underneath the straps as he pulled the garment away from your body.

His palm settled between your shoulder blades, and he pushed you forward, bending you over the table before tugging your hands behind your back, giving you a moment or two before looping his belt around your wrists. He pulled it tight, and you tested it, biting your lip when it wouldn’t give.

“I’m gonna leave my hand here,” he started, drumming his fingers along the back of your hand before curling them around the belt. “If you need out, just tap me, okay?”

You nodded your head, relaxing just a little bit, turning your head to the side so your cheek was flat against the table.

“Good girl.”

His other hand tugged at your panties, pulling them down and letting them pool around your ankles. You kicked them off just as he pushed his jeans and his briefs off of his hips again, just enough to release his cock.

He brought his fingers to your core first, gathering some of your wetness onto his fingers before he stroked himself a few times, grunting quietly, lining himself up with your entrance and teasing his tip through your soaked folds. You almost pushed back against him.

But you didn’t have to wait long before he slid himself into your dripping heat, and the moan that left your lips at the nearly painful stretch was downright sinful, and the gasp that followed when he bottomed out made his eyes flutter shut, the sound shooting straight to his dick. He could probably get off on your sounds alone, and he’d barely pulled anything from you.

He wasn’t gentle, you didn’t need him to be — he found a quick, merciless pace right from the start, fucking into you roughly, making your stomach twist in such a delicious way. His thrusts were almost cruel, the force behind them enough to bruise, but you relished in it. You were left completely speechless, your mind lost in a lust filled haze. You couldn’t even think straight, the only thoughts running through your mind being how fucking good he was giving it to you, how his movements were so precise and sharp and fuck, it was almost overwhelming.

No one had ever fucked you so good. You were absolutely positive of that.

“You’re so fucking tight, holy shit, how are you this tight?”

Your eyes were screwed tightly shut, your hands searching for something to grasp even though they were bound so tightly, it was useless. But he noticed, and he allowed himself to relent just a fraction, moving his hand just enough so that you could intertwine your fingers, and the second they were locked together you were squeezing hard, crying out for him in a way that made his cock throb inside of you.

The only sounds in the room were skin slapping against skin, your moans, his grunts that were slowly turning into full on growls, and the absolutely obscene wet sounds your cunt was making as he drove himself into you. His free hand found your hair again, and he pushed your head further into the table top, the cloth burning as it scraped against your skin, but you loved it. It only brought a new level of intensity to everything that you were feeling.

You loved the almost animalistic way he was taking you, how the only words passing his lips were random swears, his own ability to speak completely vanishing as he lost himself in the feeling of you and how your pussy was gripping his cock so tightly. How you took him so well, how your lips stayed parted as you made the most wonderful of noises for him and how the saliva pooling under your lips was so undeniably sexy to him. How he was the one making you make those noises, making you _literally_ drool for him.

He was making you feel so good. Poe was snapping his hips so ruthlessly into you and _nothing_ had ever felt so good.

“You take my cock so good baby, like a little fucking slut, yeah? Are you a slut for my cock?”

You were only a little surprised at the volume in which his words made you moan.

“Yes sir,” you whimpered, squeezing his hand again, letting your eyes flutter open. “Fuck, you fuck my pussy so fucking good.”

He moved his hand, swinging it back before letting his palm connect with your ass. You couldn’t even begin to describe the noise that left your mouth at the biting, unrelenting sting. You turned your head just enough to peek back at him as he landed a second blow to the opposite cheek, and the look on his face nearly sent you tumbling over the edge.

His jaw was still clenched, his eyes dark, though the desperate fire behind them was blatantly obvious. You were making him feel as good as he was making you feel.

“Think you can scream for me sweetheart? If I hit you right-” he mused, pulling almost all of the way out before shoving his way back into you, effectively pulling that scream from your lips as the tip of his cock rammed against that spot so deep inside of you. “There?”

You were a moaning, crying, trembling mess beneath him, hardly registering the third smack, or the fourth, or the fifth. All you could focus on was the nearly blinding pressure building between your legs and the way his hips grew even faster, even more relentless as he chased his own end.

His grunts and his moans grew more and more desperate the closer he came to his high, and for a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to let you come, but as soon as the thought crossed your mind, his hand moved between your legs, his fingers starting to rub tight, fast circles against your clit. The friction mixed with his brutal pace had you on the edge of your own climax within seconds.

“Beg for it,” he said, his voice steady and level, composed.

You couldn’t form words. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get them to roll off your tongue. You couldn’t breathe. You were gonna come, hard.

Until he pulled his fingers away, and while the almost overwhelming sensation didn’t fade entirely, it weakened while your frustration grew. You gasped, a whine following immediately after, the force and the speed behind his hips staying constant.

“Use your fuckin’ words or I’ll leave you hangin’ sweetheart. Come on. Beg.”

“Please,” you whimpered, peeking back at him again, your eyes and the tone of your voice both so completely desperate. “I need it, I need it so fucking badly. I need you to make me come.”

“Do you think you deserve it?”

“Yes sir, fuck, I’ve been so fucking good for you.”

“Are you sure?”

You were practically crying as you nodded your head. “Please, I fucking need it.”

Poe was apparently satisfied, bringing his fingers back to your clit, another growl tearing through his throat as he rubbed at you furiously, immediately bringing you right back to the edge as he held his own orgasm back, wanting to watch you come undone for him. He _needed_ to watch you come for him, needed to hear you.

The tight coil in the pit of your stomach released, like the pin being pulled from a grenade, the pleasure whitehot and burning with such an intensity, you felt like you were being split in two as his cock continued to push right up against your g-spot. He managed to pull another scream from your lips, his hips and his fingers not relenting for even a second, and you arched your back into his touch, trying to pull him even closer, even deeper.

It was almost too much. You were writhing underneath him, entirely consumed by the pleasure, your hips bucking on their own accord and your nails digging into the back of his hand, breaking the skin in little crescent shapes. His grip on you was tight, and you knew in the morning you’d have little bruises in the shape of his fingertips.

Your cunt clenched around him so fucking perfectly, so fucking tight, and Poe couldn’t breathe, completely forgot how. He fell forward, his chest flush against your back, his lips just behind your ear. His grunts quickly turned into moans that were just as desperate as yours.

“Where do you want it?” he rasped, his voice laced with so much need. All you could do was nod, hoping that he understood what you meant — it was safe for him to stay inside.

His stomach flipped, heart racing in his chest, and with just another couple of thrusts that quickly turned sloppy, he was spilling himself inside of you, filling you entirely as he held himself deep inside of your still pulsing heat. His release sent you tumbling into a second wave, the feeling of his cock twitching so deep inside of you so entirely enticing and erotic. You wanted him to stay right there, Poe thought that he _could_ stay there for the rest of his life. He had never come so hard in his life. Neither had you.

You both slowly, ever so slowly started to come down from your highs, his skin slick with sweat, your hair a total mess. He stayed there on top of you for you didn’t know how long, so utterly blissed out. You were thoroughly enjoying having him so close, relishing in the feel of his warm skin against yours, of his length still buried inside of you.

“You with me?” he sighed breathlessly, lifting his head from where it was resting against your shoulder.

All you could do was nod, your chest still heaving, heart beating so erratically within your chest. Your inability to speak made him chuckle lowly, and you whined as you felt him pull away, his weight disappearing along with the belt around your wrists.

Poe’s hands found your upper arms and he gently pulled you up until you were standing again. Every single muscle in your body protested, but it was a welcome ache, one that almost made your eyes roll into the back of your head.

His hands fell away from your body again, and when you turned, his clothes were in your hands. You reached for them, but he shook his head.

“Let me do it.”

Your cheeks turned a subtle shade of pink, and you nodded, offering him a small smile that he returned.

After getting you mostly redressed, save for your shorts that were still on the floor near the bar, his hands returned to your hips and he lifted you back onto the pool table, perching you on the edge of it. He sighed gently, moving to stand between your legs, his eyes seeming to search yours for something, but for what, you didn’t know. He looked as if he were about to say something when a small bark sounded throughout the room.

You both turned, looking towards Bee who was sitting so patiently in the doorway, her head tilted to the side. She was holding her vest in her mouth, and what she was doing was quite obvious — she was summoning her owner.

“She’s quite the jealous type,” you chuckled lowly, your words quiet.

Poe laughed, though something told you it wasn’t entirely sincere. He ran a hand through his hair, an action you only caught out of the corner of your eye. You didn’t feel like you could look at him just then. You didn’t know why.

“What can I say, she enjoys being the only woman in my life.”

That comment shouldn’t have stung as much as it did. Your heart clenched in your chest, but you forced out another chuckle, though this time it was dripping with an underlying venom that Poe was thankfully oblivious to.

Or maybe he wasn’t. You weren’t sure, he wouldn’t look at you either. He only sighed, standing there for another moment or two before reaching into his pocket.

You turned at that, watching as he fished his keys from his jeans. He pulled one off the ring, grabbing your wrist and turning your palm upright before dropping it into your awaiting hand.

“Lock up when you leave, yeah? I need to get Bee home.”

The frown that found its way onto your face was immediate, and all you could do was stare at the little gold key in your hand before you forced yourself to curl your fingers around it.

Were you guys not going to talk about what just happened? Was that all he had to say? Could he not even tell you that he had had a nice time?

Apparently not. His warmth retreated again, and you looked up, your eyes following his form as he moved towards Bee, starting to slide her vest onto her.

You couldn’t stop the scoff that left your lips, and you pushed yourself off the pool table, going and retrieving your shorts before pulling them back up your legs. You marched over to him, the stomps of your feet echoing off the walls, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care how childish it seemed, or that he was your boss, or that you couldn’t just accept the fact that it was a one time hit and run that didn’t mean anything at all.

Poe looked up when he sensed you approaching, and you copied his earlier movements, practically slamming the key back into his hand.

“ _You_ can lock up.”

You didn’t wait for a response, and you completely missed the look of remorse that crossed his face, your eyes having been set on the collar of his shirt.

You merely walked back upstairs and forced yourself not to run towards the door, stepping out onto the street and thinking about how taking this job was the worst decision of your life.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so...i finally updated. and i plan on doing so more regularly now that i have this story outlined and actually have an idea of where i want it to go! remember to leave a comment or a kudos if you enjoyed<3

Honestly? You were beyond thankful to have the following day off from work. It gave you time to think, time to stew in your own emotions and thoughts and try to make sense of them. Really, you were struggling to make sense of the situation as a whole, the confusion and the mixed emotions only bleeding over into the next morning, causing you to question if this job was even really worth it. You were so close to calling out, a headache already starting to form behind your eyes as you thought about having to go in for your shift.

You didn’t even fully understand why you were struggling so hard. You both had been drinking, it should have been easy enough to just blame it on the alcohol that had been swirling through your veins, clouding your judgement and making you act on impulse. It should’ve been as simple as that, but you knew that there was more to it, that it ran deeper than that.

It was your stupid fucking crush on him that was making it so complicated, because you knew that even sober, you still would have jumped him had he shown even an ounce of interest in getting you out of your pants. You still would’ve kissed him and you still would’ve fucked him and he still probably would’ve ended the night on the same note and that was what frustrated you more than anything. Even without the vodka induced courage and bravery, you still would’ve given yourself to him and he still would’ve been a complete asshole afterwards.

Alcohol didn’t make a person act like that. That was all Poe, you were sure of it.

You also couldn’t help but feel like you were blowing it out of proportion, turning it into something that it wasn’t. Why should have you expected him to act any different? What were you even expecting? Flowers and chocolates and romance? It was only a stupid hookup. Just because you had feelings for him didn’t mean he had to return them.

And not only that, but you didn’t feel like you knew him well enough to be so irritated and upset with him. It’s not like you were friends or anything. He was your boss and you were his employee and that was it. That was all it would ever be.

Though you weren’t sure how much longer that would even last.

You kept staring at the phone in your hand over and over and over again, trying to stave off the feeling of dread that pooled in the pit of your stomach at the single sentence staring back at you.

“ _We need to talk_.”

Four words. Four simple, straightforward words, and they made your stomach completely sick with nerves.

A conversation with Poe was the absolute last thing you wanted to have, but of course you needed to talk. This wasn’t a situation that could just be ignored, no matter how much you wished you could just shove it underneath the pile of dirty laundry in your closet and bury it forever. You wished it could be as simple as that, you really did, because while you knew you both needed to sit down and at least acknowledge that yeah, _something_ happened between the two of you, you were dreading having to look him in the eye.

Calling out really seemed like the better option.

But you found yourself walking into the bar a half hour before your shift, trudging up the stairs as your heart raced in your chest, anxiety overtaking your every thought, every feeling.

You were sure he was going to fire you. That had to be why he wanted to speak with you, right? He was going to fire you and you’d left things fairly shitty with your last job and who knew when you would find another. You’d lose your apartment, your car, everything. You were going to have to sell everything you owned just to be able to eat and-

And you were effectively pulled from your ridiculous train of thought by the sound of your name rolling off a familiar tongue.

“You alright?”

Poe was standing in the doorway of his office, looking like he had been just about to leave and run an errand or something, Bee’s orange vest strapped securely around her and her leash in his hand. You blinked, taking a moment to try and clear the thoughts from your head, actually shaking back and forth as if it were a trick that actually worked.

“M’fine.”

His brown eyes, those stupid brown eyes of his narrowed and you could tell that he didn’t believe your words for even a second. “You look like you’re gonna be sick.”

Did you? Maybe that would be enough to get you out of this conversation, enough for him to send you home for the night so you could stew some more, let your thoughts marinate for another twenty four hours.

But you knew that would only make everything worse. It would only cause you further confusion, make your anger grow into something nasty and ugly and caustic.

You still hated the fact that you were so angry and frustrated to begin with.

“Really, Poe, I’m fine,” you said, brushing past him into his office.

The familiar smell of cigarette smoke mingling with his cologne hit your nose as soon as you were near him, but there was something else thrown into the mixture. Maybe just a hint of mint and coffee — two scents you hadn’t noticed two nights before but now filled your senses completely.

He even smelled perfect. Damn him.

You shook your head, the action subtle enough that he didn’t catch it, and you took a seat on the old couch pressed against the wall, instantly regretting it, knowing you probably should have sat in one of the chairs facing his desk. It would have been the more professional approach.

And it would have kept some distance between you both.

Poe sat on the other end of the couch, hunched over with his hands folded in his lap as he refused to let himself relax back against the cushions like you were. All you could do was stare at him, wait for him to say something, anything to break the silence that was causing nothing but anxiety to bubble up in the pit of your stomach. Being near him had never felt so uncomfortable.

It was a few minutes later when he finally shifted, angling his body to face you, his back against the side of the couch. He ran his hands over his face, taking a deep breath before exhaling. You watched as his chest rose and fell with his action, and you mentally cursed yourself for wanting to reach out and feel his skin move under the palm of your hand. You were being so ridiculous, giving yourself total whiplash and driving yourself mad. It needed to stop.

“If you’re going to fire me can you just like, do it now instead of letting it drag out?” you finally asked after realizing he still didn’t plan on saying anything.

He furrowed his eyebrows, dropping his hands away from his face so that he could actually look at you. Your stomach flipped again, and this time, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad.

“Fire you? Why would I fire you?”

Your expression now mirrored his, your confusion evident. Recognition soon crossed his face however, and he started to hastily shake his head before you could say anything in response to his question.

“I’m not gonna fire you just because we had sex.” He sounded almost disappointed, almost wounded. Did you really think that little of him?

His tone only added to your irritation. “Can you really blame me for thinking that though?.”

A deep sigh left his lips, and he shrugged his shoulders, looking away from you again as he started to gnaw on his bottom lip. “I’m not that much of an asshole.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Your words slipped past your lips before you even had a chance to think about them, and Poe scoffed, eyes hardening as he let his gaze flutter back to you. “I was going to apologize for being a dick the other night but now I’m not so sure I want to.”

It was your turn to sigh, and you let your head fall back and thump against the wall. You were quiet for a moment or two, the anger you had been feeling for the last two days seeming to just evaporate. At least he’d admitted that he’d been wrong in the way he acted. Maybe that was all that you needed.

“Honestly?” you mumbled, holding his eye contact as you shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know what I was expecting, really. I mean, it would’ve been nice to hear that you’d enjoyed yourself or something.”

Poe couldn’t help but laugh, just a little bit, his expression softening significantly. “You were worried I didn’t _enjoy_ myself?”

You shrugged again, nodding, and he only laughed again, his nose scrunching in the most adorable way that made you want to hit him just for being so _fucking_ cute.

“Babe.” The petname just slipped out, and you could tell he didn’t even realize, didn’t even mean to use it. “Trust me. I’m almost positive I’ve never come that hard like, ever.”

“I don’t think I have either,” you admitted, averting your gaze, only a little embarrassed. Embarrassed wasn’t even the right word, it was more like you were just nervous, unsure of yourself. Unsure of where this was heading.

Poe was experiencing similar emotions apparently, because he merely sat there, staring at you for what had to be close to a full minute. He looked conflicted, like he was either choosing his words carefully or like he was just looking for the words period. It was the same expression that had been on his face as he stood between your thighs down in the basement, right before Bee had interrupted whatever small moment you had been having.

His voice was quiet when he finally did speak, his eyes maybe just a little sad but you couldn’t tell, the emotion fleeing them completely after only a second or two. “We can’t.”

Of course, you knew that. You knew there was nothing you could do about it, nowhere for it to go. It was wrong it was wrong it was wrong. You shouldn’t have had sex with him in the first place, you knew that. It would have been different had you just been two consenting adults looking for a quick fuck, it would have been different if he wasn’t your boss.

You hated that one little fact, that one little detail changed things entirely and marked the entire situation taboo, marked him off limits.

You also hated that you found yourself wanting to quit just so that, maybe, if he wanted to, you could try to continue your little escapade, maybe turn it into something more if he were at all interested. You weren’t even sure if that was something you were interested in.

Like you kept trying to tell yourself, you hardly knew a thing about the man. What if you gave up a job you were actually enjoying, one that you were actually good at and it turned out to be for nothing? It was silly. Silly and stupid and foolish but God, you’d been a fool for those brown eyes since you first looked into them.

You were pulled back to reality at the sound of his voice, one simple word rolling off his tongue though his tone was stern, making it feel more like a punch to the gut. “Don’t.”

You stayed quiet, simply blinking at him. Were you always that obvious and easy to read?

“If you keep daydreaming about something that’s not going to happen, you’re just gonna end up making yourself sick.”

He always had a way of making his words sting.

But you’d always known how to bite right back.

“I’m not daydreaming about anything. I don’t want you.”

You knew your words sounded harsh, and not only that but it was a blatant lie, but judging by the way his jaw clenched and how his nostrils started to flare, one that he believed.

“Fine. That makes things easy then.”

“I guess it does.”

Another round of silence, and when it was apparent that neither of you had anything left to say, you stood, ready to put as much distance as possible between you both even though you were working under the same roof.

Poe didn’t try to stop you, but you were near positive you heard him mutter a quick “fuck” under his breath as you walked out the door, and that might’ve been something slamming against his desk that followed but you couldn’t quite tell.

You just wanted to get your shift over with and get the hell home.

It would give you time to think, time to look at your options and seriously debate whether or not quitting was one of them. If giving up the first thing that made you genuinely happy was worth killing your crush on a man you couldn’t have.

You still couldn’t make sense of anything, still couldn’t understand. There were still so many unanswered questions and emotions you wanted to ignore, but the one thing you did realize?

Taking this job wasn’t the worst decision of your life, your biggest mistake, biggest regret.

But fucking Poe Dameron was.


	5. Chapter 5

You hated making decisions. Even the simple ones, like what to wear or what to make for dinner. Deciding whether or not to wash your hair in the shower was even difficult at times. It was so much easier when someone offered a little bit of guidance, _told you_ what to do instead of asking you what you wanted, or making you do it by yourself. You felt like you needed that guidance now more than ever.

Quitting your job was by no means a simple decision, or one that should be taken lightly and made on a whim, and this was one of those instances that you really wished someone would just smack you across the face and make the decision for you.

Asking Finn would be useless — he’d tell you to stay, and on top of that he’d find out that you slept with Dameron, which was honestly the last thing you wanted right then. You knew he wouldn’t care, not really, but you also didn’t want to chance having to sit through a lecture, and you definitely wanted to avoid his relentless teasing.

You didn’t want to ask your parents, refused to ask one of them, and you didn’t want to ask your other friends. The squirrel that lived in the trees outside of your apartment didn’t exactly offer any sound advice. You didn’t have anyone else to talk to, no where else to turn.

It was a decision you were gonna have to make entirely on your own, and you fucking hated it. You hated it so much.

But you still hated the fact that you were even contemplating quitting even more. You hated that just the mere sight of Poe brought a bad taste to your mouth, and instead of looking forward to your shifts you were now dreading them more and more each day.

Finn had been able to tell a change in your mood, of course he had. He’d asked you about it over and over again in the week since you and Poe had partaken in your little basement escapade, and each time you only gave him the same answer.

You were just tired.

It wasn’t a lie, not really. You were exhausted, hadn’t been sleeping right as you’d stay up most of the night contemplating your next move, trying to map out a plan and figure out if quitting was really an option. You had bills to pay, things that needed to be taken care of and sure, you had enough put away to get you by for a few months without a source of income, though you sincerely hoped it wouldn’t take that long to find another job.

But there was always that chance. What if you didn’t find a job? What if it did take months instead of weeks?

You were almost positive Poe would hire you back on if that were the case, but that wasn’t something you wanted to do either. You didn’t want to go crawling back to him when the whole point of quitting would be to get away from him, put some much needed distance between you both.

The constant back and forth was killing you. You knew you needed to make a decision sooner rather than later, before your anxiety over it grew into something unmanageable.

You wished you could just handle it without any sort of complication, get a grip on it without feeling like every possible outcome would be the worst one. You wished you could act like enough of an adult and separate your feelings from your professional life but it was so hard. Every time you saw him or heard his name your stomach erupted into a crazy frenzy of butterflies and honestly, you couldn’t tell if they were good or bad anymore.

That was another thing you couldn’t make your mind up on — whether or not you loathed Poe Dameron entirely or if you were still harboring a crush on the insanely infuriating man.

When did everything get so damn complicated? _Why_ did it have to be so damn complicated?

Quitting would solve it, would make all of the uncertainty go away. You’d be able to finally think about something other than Poe’s infectious smile and those stupid brown eyes and those rough hands and fuck, _that_ was something you didn’t need to be thinking about at all.

But he’d taken over your mind completely, worked his way between your ribs and mended himself into some piece of your soul buried deep within your chest, and you didn’t understand how. Didn’t understand how you could let yourself become that infatuated with another person given your limited history, and how that history was tainted red with anger and resentment and so many other negative emotions you doubted you would be able to name them all.

But the heat that coursed through your veins when he touched your hand, the burning. How each brush of his fingers along your skin felt electric, and that spark in his eyes that only turned you into flames. That was also red, and something that you were still craving. You still wanted him.

You needed to quit. You needed to quit and never let yourself get near him ever again. He wasn’t good for you. It was stupid that you were that crazy over a man you hardly knew, had only known for a short time and had only fucked once and-

And that’s all it had been. A single fuck that didn’t mean anything to him, and shouldn’t have meant anything to you. He didn’t want you, and you shouldn’t want him, you’d told him you didn’t want him and he believed you. Any chance for anything more had been completely ruined in that moment, but you had to remind yourself that there had never been a chance for more to begin with.

You meant nothing to him, and he was slowly becoming more and more to you and you just couldn’t understand why.

You were quitting. You couldn’t do it, refused to let it turn into anything more than it already was. You wouldn’t let Poe Dameron crawl any further underneath your skin, wouldn’t let him make a home inside of you. It was stupid, foolish, silly.

Quitting was your only option. The only one that made sense.

The walk up to his office felt like it took minutes rather than seconds, your body seeming to weigh more with each step that you took. It made you start to question yourself again, debate whether or not you were really making the right decision. You had to stop second guessing yourself. You just needed to get it over and done with and put it all in the past behind you.

You were going to lose your mind if you didn’t.

The door to his office was closed, which usually meant he wasn’t in, and you cursed under your breath. Of course, the second you build up the courage you’d spent a week searching for, and something goes wrong. Of course.

You decided to knock anyways, just to see, but several seconds passed without so much as a whisper. You knocked a second time, and waited again. Still, nothing.

But right as you were about to turn away, you heard what sounded like a bang come from somewhere behind the shut door. You hesitated, frowning gently, almost sure you were simply hearing things but right when you went to walk away a second time you heard it again, only now it sounded like something had been thrown against the wall right next to the door. It happened again, and your frown only grew, and you paused for another moment before deciding to test the doorknob.

It was unlocked, and you pushed the door open without another thought, eyes on the ground as you looked to see what had been thrown. It was only a pen, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion before you glanced up again, eyes scanning the room.

Your breath hitched when they landed on Poe, sitting on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest, his back against his desk and the cup of pens he kept on top of it scattered all around him — he’d knocked them off so that he had something to throw to get your attention.

His chest was heaving as his lungs struggled to pull in enough air, eyes frantic and wild when they locked on yours. He looked absolutely terrified, scared out of his mind, and for a moment you thought he might’ve been hurt he was so pale. Even from where you were standing, you could see that he was trembling and it didn’t take you long to realize that no, he wasn’t hurt.

Not physically, anyways.

Poe was having a panic attack, something you were more than familiar with, and from what you could tell based off of your own, it was only getting worse with each passing second.

Everything, all of the animosity and the stress from the last week disappeared completely in that moment as you simply continued to watch him slowly fall apart in front of you. Your desire to quit, the anger behind your decision, it was all gone, and you let yourself give your complete focus over to the man in front of you, as if he hadn’t had it all along.

But you didn’t know what he needed. You knew your own tricks, what made your attacks better and what made you spiral further, but his needs could be different. While you needed reassurance and gentle touches, he might need silence and space.

The last thing you wanted to do was make it worse, and you knew asking him would be pointless. He couldn’t speak, wouldn’t be able to answer you even if he wanted to. You wracked your brain, using your limited knowledge on the man to try and figure something out, anything that would make it even just a little better, get him to a place where he could bring himself the rest of the way down.

But it suddenly clicked as you stood there helplessly, and you immediately turned on your heel, knowing you weren’t the one to help him.

You took the stairs two at a time, ignoring the customers who looked your way with furrowed eyebrows when you made it to the bottom, only continuing down the next flight until you reached the basement.

Bee was asleep in her usual spot, her head perking up and tail wagging as she heard you move towards her. Her vest was sitting on the bar next to her, and you reached for it, causing the dog to immediately sit up and wait patiently for you to slip it on.

“Come on pretty girl,” you said, bending down in front of her to secure her vest in place — the only reason you wasted your time with it was because she couldn’t physically see Poe right then, and you needed her to know it was serious. “He needs you.”

Bee ran ahead of you, but you were right on her tail, following closely behind. She didn’t even stop when she made it upstairs, immediately going for the jacket on the back of his chair. You looked towards Poe, watching as a small bout of relief flashed in his eyes. She was exactly what he needed, and now you were positive what kind of service dog she was.

She came back around the desk with an orange pill bottle in her mouth, and you stepped forward, thinking you were going to have to open it for Poe because you had no idea how he’d get the top off with his hands shaking like they were, but as you grew closer you realized that it didn’t look like a normal bottle from any pharmacy. And sure enough, after she placed it on the ground, Bee was able to open it by pressing her paw straight down onto it.

Poe reached for it, and before he could fish the pill out, Bee was already on the move again, heading towards his backpack sitting beside the couch. She easily pulled his water bottle from the cup holder and brought it to him, but he’d already dry swallowed the pill and simply took it from her, holding it in his hand. Bee stretched out across his lap immediately after, and Poe tangled his free hand into her fur. You watched as she licked at his hand, and Poe’s eyes fluttered shut as he seemed to start relaxing from the pressure alone.

You only sank to the floor across from him, keeping your distance but not wanting to just up and leave him. You knew Bee had him, knew she’d take the best care of him, but still, you just couldn’t bring yourself to.

And so you continued to just sit there and watch as Poe’s breathing started to even out and some color returned to his cheeks. The trembling stopped, so did the sweating you hadn’t noticed before, and he looked more and more like the man you knew with each minute that passed. His hair was still a complete mess though, and you had to resist the urge to reach out and comb your fingers through it, fix it back into place.

You weren’t sure exactly how much time passed before he spoke, but when he did, his voice was quiet and weak, and it honestly made your heart ache in your chest. You didn’t like hearing him so broken.

“Thank you.”

You shook your head, picking at a random string hanging off of your jeans just to give yourself something to do, something else to look at instead of his red rimmed eyes. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“I really do.” He cleared his throat, and even though you weren’t looking at him you could tell his gaze was locked on your hands as well, just watching. “I uh, I haven’t had one hit me out of nowhere like that in a long time. Can usually find Bee before it strikes.”

“She helped you, not me. You really don’t-”

“You grabbed her without me even having to ask. You knew what I needed.”

You shrugged, finally letting your gaze flick up to him. “It wasn’t hard once I pieced it together.”

Poe looked almost embarrassed at that, gnawing on his bottom lip as he closed his eyes again, shrugging himself.

“What?” you asked gently after a moment or two passed, the silence weighing down on you, making you feel as if you had done something wrong.

Another shrug. Another round of silence, though this felt different than it had a week ago. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world either. It was just...silence.

“Poe I’m not going to think any different of you.”

He peeked an eye open, and you could tell that he was watching your chest rise and fall, trying to breathe in time with you. You felt heat rise to your cheeks, and you swallowed thickly, continuing on when he still didn’t say anything.

“I have panic attacks too,” you offered, your words making him relax his jaw, even if it was just a fraction.

You left it up to him, whether or not the conversation would go anywhere else or if you would both just move back into silence. You were okay with either, really, not wanting to push him to talk if he didn’t want to, but you still had no intention of leaving him. Not until he asked you to.

“It’s not just panic attacks,” he sighed eventually, rubbing a hand over his face as he continued to stroke Bee with the other. “It’s nightmares and shit too. Random flashbacks. On the bad days I can’t even get out of bed and if it weren’t for Bee, I’d probably starve there, forget to drink water and take my meds. It’s-”

“It’s PTSD.”

You remembered what he had told you, about being in the military years ago. You remembered how he’d scanned the crowded bar with something close to distrust on the night he’d helped you tend to it, how he’d seemed nervous to be in such a large, hectic group of people. You remembered touching the scar on the back of his neck, and how he had flinched and guided your hands elsewhere.

Poe swallowed thickly, his eyes finding yours for the first time as he nodded his head slowly. “It’s PTSD,” he echoed.

“And that’s okay,” you said, your voice as gentle as before. “I’m still not gonna think any less of you, Dameron.”

He fell silent again, but didn’t look away from you as he fumbled with Bee’s vest, swiftly undoing it, though she still didn’t move from his lap, and you could tell he was grateful for it.

“I never thought I’d be part of the damn statistic that can’t handle the sound of fireworks,” he chuckled bitterly, the sound devoid of any humor. “But you know what I did my first New Year’s back in the states?”

He paused, for just a second, almost like he was actually expecting you to answer.

“I pulled my dad to the ground, tried to cover him after the first one shot off, and I wouldn’t get off of him until they stopped.”

You stayed silent again, allowing him the chance to just let it out.

“I mean, he was a fuckin’ soldier too and I’ve never once seen the man flinch at any loud sound or, or get nervous in a crowd. Nothing.”

“You shouldn’t compare yourself to him.”

He chuckled again, rolling his eyes. His frustration was evident, and you wished you could fix it for him, take some of it away but you knew it wasn’t your place, knew there was nothing more you could offer him than a shoulder to lean on. He wouldn’t take your help, anyways.

“It’s kind of hard not to when that’s all anyone has ever done your entire life.”

“But it’s not like it’s something you can control. It’s not like it’s your fault.”

“If I had worked harder to push it down-”

“If you had pushed it down it would’ve become unbearable, unmanageable. You wouldn’t have been able to handle it when it finally did hit.”

Poe knew you were right, you could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed, and how he shifted just slightly, looking almost uncomfortable again, like he’d been caught. “How do you know?”

“Because you’re not the only person in the world that has trauma to live with, Poe.”

His face softened, just a fraction, but enough for you to see some flicker of emotion flash in his eyes — the same damned look you had been spending the last week trying to figure out, but it was gone as quickly as it came. Still, you wondered what was going through his head, what he was thinking.

“What is it?” you asked, tearing your gaze away from him, pretending like you hadn’t just admitted that you were just as damaged as him in your own way.

“Really?” he scoffed, shaking his head from side to side. “You’re really going to sit here and tell me not to feel ashamed but then you’re gonna shut down the second your own shit is brought up?”

“We’re not talking about me right now-”

“Seems a little hypocritical if you ask me, princess.”

“Like I said,” you shrugged, sighing under your breath, forcing yourself to find his eyes again. “We’re not talking about me right now.”

He narrowed his eyes, but before he had a chance to argue, you were already speaking again, continuing on.

“Neither of us needs to be thinking about that kind of shit right now. Save it for another day when we’re about five shots in and don’t know any better.”

Again, Poe knew you were right. And this time, he seemed to accept it, a small smirk working its way onto his face as he gave his first genuine laugh of the day. “You promise?”

“As long as I don’t have to pay for them,” you teased, reaching your leg out to gently tap his foot with yours, eyes playful. “I promise.”

You didn’t know why you promised, but you suspected it had something to do with the way his lips twitched upwards and how his eyes started to sparkle like they held the entire night sky.

“You feeling any better?” you asked, keeping your foot in place, trying to play it off like the miniscule contact didn’t make your heart race, like you didn’t notice you were still touching.

“Better,” he sighed, running a hand through his disheveled curls messing them up further. He smirked again, tilting his head to the side. “But a shot does sound nice right about now.”

You snorted, gently kicking at him before you forced yourself to pull back and stand with a soft groan, your back protesting from being on the floor for so long. “I’m not giving you alcohol right now Dameron. But I’d really appreciate it if you’d drink some of that water for me.”

Poe pretended to pout, but easily undid the cap on his nearly forgotten bottle, gulping down the contents in just a few seconds. You reached for it once it was empty, turning on your heel so you could run downstairs and fill it for him, but he stopped you, his hand shooting out to loosely wrap around your wrist.

Your skin felt like it was on fire from his simple touch, and that fire only grew when he started to absentmindedly trail his fingers along the inside of your wrist. At least, you assumed he didn’t realize what he was doing.

“Seriously, thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come up here.”

You shook your head, offering him a small smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

He held on tighter when you tried to pull away again, his eyebrows furrowing, lips gently pursed. “Did you need something? Is that why you were looking for me? Shit, sorry, I-”

“No,” you said before you could think twice about your answer, continuing to gently shake your head. “No, it wasn’t anything important. I don’t even remember what it was. Really, Poe, don’t worry about it.”

You hoped your words were convincing, that he wouldn’t be able to see through you or them.

Poe hesitated, but soon nodded, letting go of your wrist and you were sure you saw the tips of his ears turn pink before you turned again, mumbling over your shoulder how you’d be back with a full bottle of ice water in just a minute or two.

You sighed in relief as you started down the stairs, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. The _good_ type of butterflies.

There was no way you could quit now. Even if you really wanted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly i hurt myself with the bit about kes/: remember to leave a comment or a kudos, feedback is always appreciated<3


	6. Chapter 6

It’d been a week since you and Poe had sat together on his office floor, and things were better. They weren’t great by any means, but they were at least better. You didn’t dread going into work anymore, didn’t contemplate quitting every single second of your shift. You weren’t lying in bed at night, staring up at the ceiling while your mind raced and your stomach churned. You no longer had anxiety over the thought of seeing Poe.

Not that you really saw him much more than you did before — he still spent his nights upstairs in his office, away from all of the noise and the chaos, though you now understood that it wasn’t just because he was the boss and he could do whatever the fuck he wanted.

The only time you really saw him was when he helped you clean up every night; he’d started insisting on it, even though you told him he really didn’t need to. Everyone else was expected to close their positions without any help, and it wasn’t anything that you couldn’t handle on your own, but each time you tried to send him on his way he would argue that bartenders had the most closing duties out of anyone, and he was only sitting on his ass anyways. If he could help you get out of there quicker, he wanted to.

You thought he was just trying to make it up to you. You thought that maybe he felt like he owed you something for helping him get through his panic attack, and while he didn’t, of course he didn’t, if it helped him feel better, you’d give it to him.

You usually ended up walking out together since he helped you close, him going his way with a quiet “be safe” while you went yours, so when you turned left with him instead of crossing the street to head towards the parking deck, he raised an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

“Walking home.”

Poe’s other eyebrow met the first. “What street do you live on?”

You told him, and if his eyebrows could’ve shot up any fucking further, you were sure they would have.

“That’s like, a twenty minute walk.”

“It’s fifteen and-”

“And it’s _midnight_.”

“Poe, I’ve walked home before.” It was relaxing, and sometimes it felt pointless to drive the short distance to work when you could just walk.

His eyes widened almost comically, and you couldn’t tell if he was exaggerating or if he was truly shocked. “Yeah, but I didn’t know that!”

“You’re walking home too!”

“Yeah, but I have a vicious attack dog and I’m not a fuckin’ gorgeous woman-” Your heart stopped at his words, but you were almost positive he didn’t even realize he’d said them. “- _and_ I’m only going three blocks, not twenty seven.”

“It is _not_ twenty sev-”

“Close enough, sweetheart.”

“It’s like, thirteen-”

He interrupted you again, making a series of noises to cut you off before holding his hands up. “Stop arguing. I’m walking you home.”

You huffed, knowing that it would be pointless to fight him on it. He’d just follow you.

“Fine,” you sighed dramatically, trying to pretend like you weren’t secretly looking forward to the company. His company. “As long as you let me pay for your Uber home.”

“Who said I was Ubering?”

“Poe!”

You swatted his arm, and he only smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Good.

Now you wouldn’t have to struggle to hold yourself back from reaching for it.

The conversation came easy enough, and you were thankful for it, glad that you were able to talk to him again without feeling drained afterwards. It was weird, how you kind of missed him while still not knowing too much about him.

The realization that you wanted to change that was just a little jarring. Your emotions, your feelings about him were constantly changing, evolving. Sometimes you weren’t even sure what you wanted from him, but you’d gotten pretty good at telling yourself that it was better if you just kept it professional, like he wanted.

But at the same time, you weren’t sure that you would ever call your relationship with Poe “professional”. In the short time that you’d known him, there was already too much there for you to simply just be boss and employee.

It was complicated, everything was still so complicated.

Maybe if you started trying to consider him a friend and not someone above you, you’d be able to find some clarity.

That could work.

But what if that was even too much for him?

“Did you seriously just ask me if we’re friends?”

Oh fuck, did you?

You glanced over towards him, trying to ignore the sharp angle of his jaw and the stubble that covered it, then to the street sign ahead of you. Just another two blocks.

“I guess?” you said quietly, furrowing your eyebrows. You really hadn’t meant to say anything out loud.

Poe snorted, shaking his head gently, though he was quiet for a moment. You weren’t sure that you liked his silence and what it could mean, but he didn’t make you suffer long.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d say we’re friends. Wouldn’t you?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I guess.”

“Ouch.”

You shoved his shoulder playfully, a small smile finding its way onto your lips. “I didn’t mean it like that, asshole. I meant-”

“You weren’t sure where we stand after everything that’s happened the last couple weeks.”

“Exactly.” You nodded your head, sighing gently.

He was quiet for a moment before nudging you with his elbow, his eyes staying focused on the sidewalk in front of you. “Friends. Okay? We’re friends.”

You almost immediately nodded again, folding your arms over your chest. “Friends.”

The rest of the walk was silent, and once you reached your apartment, you took longer than necessary to find your keys in your bag. You weren’t ready to say goodnight yet.

But who said you had to?

“Did you want to come inside while you wait for your Uber?” you asked, not looking up from your bag, still pretending to hunt for your keys when they were really right there on top.

“I told you, you don’t need to-”

“I know I don’t need to, but I want to. It’d make me feel better. We could have a quick drink, get Bee some water...”

Poe looked down at his beloved dog — she was panting just a little bit, and could definitely use a quick drink. He nodded his head, rocking back and forth on his heels. “Fine, yeah. Yeah, that sounds nice.”

You smiled to yourself, trying to hide it from him. You finally grabbed your keys, almost positive that he knew you had simply been stalling. You quickly unlocked the door and led him inside.

Your apartment was a cute little garden level on a residential street, with original hardwood floors and beautiful exposed brick. It had the historic charm and character that the city was known for, but you’d made it your own in your decorating and design. It was your perfect little escape.

“This is cute,” Poe hummed from behind you, kicking his shoes off after watching you do the same. “Cozy.”

He wanted to use the word “safe”, but it felt weird.

Cozy worked.

You chuckled under your breath, setting your bag down in the entryway after pulling your lighter from it. You always lit a couple of candles after getting home, just one of the steps in your ritual to wind down from the day.

“Thanks,” you said, throwing the lighter onto the coffee table once you were satisfied.

Poe plopped down onto the couch while Bee sniffed around, and you couldn’t help but smile at how relaxed he seemed, glad that he wasn’t one of those people who tried to act like a robot when they entered a new space for the first time.

You excused yourself for a moment after getting Bee her water and Poe a beer to quickly rinse off in the shower and change your clothes, taking less than ten minutes total to do so. You slipped into a pair of sleep shorts and an old sweatshirt, pulling on your slippers to keep your feet warm. You thought about taking another minute to throw on your usual makeup, but quickly shook the thought from your head.

Friends. You were friends. There was no reason to try and doll yourself up for him.

But you also wouldn’t deny the fact that you were glad you decided not to wash your hair, so he didn’t have to see it wet.

You grabbed yourself a glass of cider before heading back to the living room. You could feel his eyes on you as you took a seat at the opposite end of the couch, and you pulled your knees to your chest as you took a long sip from your bottle. You suddenly felt self conscious.

And as if he could tell, he shook his head, sliding over a few feet until your thighs were almost touching. You couldn’t tell if the close proximity made your anxiety worse or better.

“Hey,” he said softly, elbowing you gently. “We’re friends. There’s no need to be nervous around me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Am I that fuckin’ obvious?”

“Maybe a little,” he shrugged, bringing his beer up to his lips. “You’re the one that invited me in, kid.”

“I know.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe it was too soon for that. Maybe-

Poe interrupted your brief debate with yourself.

“I can go if you want me to-”

And you interrupted him.

“No-”

“I really don’t mind-”

“Poe-”

“I just, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable-”

“I want you to stay.”

Poe looked down halfway through your sentence, glancing between your eyes and his lap several times, and it was only then that you realized your hand was on his upper thigh.

Your stomach flipped with embarrassment. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Shit this is gonna be a lot harder than I-”

“What, trying to figure out how to be friends when we’ve already fucked?”

“We really need to stop interrupting each other.”

“Agreed.”

You both fell silent again, staring intently at one another, and once you realized your hand was still on his thigh, you pulled away almost hesitantly. Poe bit his lip, and you felt his fingers encircle your wrist gently before you could pull away any further. 

“You enjoyed fucking me, didn’t you?”

His question caught you off guard and brought heat to your cheeks, and you shifted in your seat, your eyes leaving his stupid brown ones, searching to settle on anything but him.

Poe tsked under his breath, bringing a finger underneath your chin, pulling your attention back to him. You could have melted right there.

“Didn’t you?”

You almost whimpered, knew you would have if you tried to speak, so you only nodded your head as much as you could, forcing yourself to hold his eye contact again.

And he just watched you, for several long moments. You couldn’t tell if he was going back and forth with himself or if he was trying to gauge where your head was at. He finally sighed, slowly shaking his head from side to side, almost as if he were trying to talk himself out of something, but he pushed on.

“Look, it’s obvious that there’s... _something_ between us-”

“Is it?”

You knew there was. You knew you were attracted to Poe, knew you wanted to have some kind of relationship with him. You figured he wouldn’t have been sitting on your couch right then if he had zero interest in you.

Maybe you just wanted to hear what his version of something was.

He narrowed his eyes, but his touch remained gentle as his fingers moved to actually grip your chin, the action exerting just a hint of dominance that had your mind swirling already.

“Yes. There is. Are you really going to deny that?”

You didn’t answer, though he didn’t really pause long enough for you to anyways.

“I don’t fuck anything that moves, sweetheart, and I really doubt you’re that kind of person either. I think you’re hot,” he deadpanned. “And judging by the way your breath just hitched, you think I’m hot too.”

“So you just want to fuck then?”

“No.” He shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head to the side. His thumb moved up to your lower lip and he traced it, though his eyes stayed locked on yours. “I _do_ want to be your friend. And if that’s all you want, then fine. We can forget about this.”

You heard his unspoken “but”, and you quirked an eyebrow.

He sighed. “But...we _could_ try that whole friends with benefits bullshit. If you wanted.”

You would have sank your teeth into your bottom lip if his thumb hadn’t been there.

“Poe the last time we had sex you acted like a complete ass afterwards. _And_ said we couldn’t do it again.”

“First of all, you’re right, I was terrible to you after. So maybe that’s why I was trying to be a decent person by putting a stop to it before it happened again,” he sighed, dropping his hand away from your face and back into his lap. “We _shouldn’t_ do it again.”

There was another silent “but”, and you waited patiently for him to continue.

“But, as long as we’re on the same page, what’s there to lose?”

_Our dignity. Our friendship. Our reputations_.

“Are you proposing we make an agreement?”

“Exactly.”

“Like, some kind of _Fifty Shades_ type bullshit?”

“That’s a written contract, that’s different.” He shook his head. “I don’t think we need to sit down and write all that shit out, do you?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Poe said simply, shrugging his shoulders and leaning back against the couch. He took a hefty sip from his beer, and you copied his actions, not sure exactly what you were getting yourself into, but it didn’t seem like a bad thing...

“I just have one rule.”

“And what’s that?” you asked, leaning forward to set your bottle down on the coffee table, just so you could look away for a moment.

“Don’t fall in love with me.”

For a second you thought he was joking, he said it so plainly, and you snorted in response. “You’re so full of yourself Dameron.”

“I mean it.”

You glanced back towards him. His expression was serious, eyes holding no humor. It was obvious that he wasn’t teasing you. He really was serious.

“That all?” you asked quietly, your voice hardly above a whisper, not knowing how else to respond.

He seemed to think about it for a moment, his hands twisting around the bottle in his hand over and over again before he took a final sip, finishing it off. “Don’t fall in love with me, and don’t touch the back of my neck.”

“I knew that one already.”

You were proud of yourself for acting so nonchalant.

Because keeping your fingers away from his neck, you could do. You could understand and respect a physical boundary like that. That was the easy part.

But keeping yourself from falling any harder?

You were fucked, given your track record.

But love was such a serious word that held so much weight, surely you could keep your crush at bay, keep it from developing into something more.

“I’m down, Dameron.”

He smirked gently, and before you had a moment to even process, he was pushing you down onto the couch, his hands finding your wrists and pinning them above your head with ease.

“Then what the hell are we waiting for?”


	7. Chapter 7

The bar had a completely different atmosphere when the lights were low and the tables were empty. You’d never been the last person in the building before, and it was making your skin crawl and your anxiety grow. It was strange how a place you usually felt so comfortable and safe in suddenly felt off. Everything was so eerie and still, and in the silence your mind was racing.

You’d never been the last in the building because Poe always stayed with you, but he hadn’t shown up that day. He hadn’t let any of the shift managers know, not that he really had to — he was the boss, and he could do whatever he wanted.

But he hadn’t even answered the text you’d sent him around 9 o’clock, and it was just after midnight when you checked your phone again. Normally you wouldn’t think twice about a delayed response, but it was strange and out of character and you couldn’t help but worry. Something just didn’t sit right with you.

But just like he didn’t have to tell the shift manager’s where he was and why he wouldn’t be coming in, he didn’t have to tell you what he was up to or how he was feeling either. You wished he would, all you wanted to do was help him if he was going through something troublesome, but he didn’t have to tell you a damn thing.

And so you tried to push your worry to the back of your mind and focus on getting out of the bar as quickly as you could, knowing that sitting in your mind was the last thing you needed to be doing and wanting nothing more than to get home and take a warm shower. You reached into your bag sitting underneath the counter and grabbed your headphones, shoving them into your ears in hopes that some music would motivate you while simultaneously work to ease your nerves.

It seemed to do the trick just fine.

Maybe a little better than fine.

It worked to distract you so well in fact, you didn’t hear it when the side door opened and closed with a soft click, and you didn’t hear the footsteps coming closer and closer towards the bar. All of those little noises were completely subdued by music, but his voice wasn’t.

“Are you coming over tonight?”

You jumped at the unexpected sound, a small yelp flying past your lips as you whirled around and blindly shoved at his chest, even though you knew it was him by his voice alone. Your pitiful attempt at pushing him away was only met with a laugh and two hands locking around your wrists, holding you still so you couldn’t continue your assault.

“Poe, that’s not funny!” you whined, jutting out your bottom lip as you tried to pull out of his grip. “I could’ve broken something or fell or some shit.”

His hands only tightened around you while he continued to laugh, his brown eyes glowing with playfulness and a hint of mischief as he backed you into the counter. “Oh I think it was fuckin’ hilarious sweetheart.”

You only continued to pout, though you weren’t really all that upset. Still, instead of giving in when he tried to pull you down and into a kiss. Instead, you huffed and pulled yourself free from his grasp, turning around so your ass was now flush to his hips. He didn’t seem deterred though, and his hands moved to your waist and you were glad you were facing away from him, not wanting him to see how you bit your lip when his thumbs rubbed across the top of your jeans in an almost soothing manner.

“Did I actually scare you that badly?” he asked, perching his chin on your shoulder, breath tickling your skin.

You shook your head. “You just made me jump is all.”

Poe laughed a little bit and let his lips brush against the spot under your ear, effectively sending a shiver down your spine. “So are you coming over tonight or what?”

You wanted to stay standing against him, but you pulled away again so you could finish cleaning up, somehow managing to wiggle yourself out from between him and the bar.

“I’ve never been to your place before.”

In the month since the start of your little arrangement, he’d always gone home with you, never the other way around.

“I know,” he said simply, a small shrug following while he moved to help you slide the last of the glasses into their spots. “But my place is closer.”

“Well with that attitude we might as well just go upstairs,” you teased, nudging his hip with yours.

He only chuckled, then shook his head a moment later. “I don’t feel like bending you over my desk tonight. Come on, please come over?”

You stayed quiet for a moment, pretending like you needed time to think about it even though you’d already made up your mind. You really just wanted a chance to look him over.

He was wearing athletic shorts and a hoodie — super relaxed, super comfortable, super adorable. He looked good if not a little tired, but you thought he always looked nice. He could be completely exhausted and you would still find him beautiful. You never imagined he could possibly look bad, ever.

Poe took your silence as the opportunity to pout, giving you puppy eyes that would have swayed your decision if you hadn’t already made it.

“Fine,” you sighed dramatically, rolling your eyes playfully for added effect. “You still have to walk me home later though.”

“Deal.”

You both fell silent after that, but the energy in the air was still electric and thick with anticipation. Neither of you could wait to get out of there.

But just like most nights, with the two of you working together, you had the bar cleaned in no time. Poe held the door open for you, and you stepped onto the street, pulling your thin zip up just a little tighter around you.

“Cold?” he asked, noticing the movement, keeping his eyes on you while he turned the key in the lock.

“A little.” You started walking ahead of him, knowing the general direction in which he lived. He caught up to you quickly.

“Want my hoodie?”

“Poe you’re in _shorts_. Really, I’ll be fine for a few blocks.”

He was already taking it off though, trying to hand it to you but you only shoved it back.

“Seriously, take it,” he said, handing it out to you again. “This is nothing, I’ve been in worse.”

You glanced at him, his words intriguing but you knew better than to push, knew better than to stick your nose somewhere you didn’t belong.

He didn’t have to tell you a damn thing.

“I’m only taking it because you’re wearing long sleeves.”

You watched him roll his eyes out of the corner of yours, but you also caught the slightly amused, almost fond look that crossed his face. It made your cheeks heat up.

The walk to his apartment wasn’t long, and he guided you upstairs with his hand on your lower back. It was a nice building, right above a little coffee shop on one of the busier streets in the city. You thought it was weird, given the fact that he hated crowds, but again it was something you didn’t comment on.

“Did you eat during your shift?” Poe asked while he fished his keys out of his pocket, searching for the right one.

You hadn’t, but you still weren’t very hungry. “Yeah.”

He glanced at you, quirking an eyebrow. It was obvious that he didn’t believe you.

“I’m making you something to eat after and you’re not going to argue with me, understand?”

His tone went straight to your core, and there wasn’t a single part of you that dreamed to argue with him. It was the same tone he used when he was ordering you around in bed, the same one that made you want to get down on your knees and please him.

“Yes sir.”

“Good. I would make you something now, but...”

He trailed off and pushed the door open after unlocking it, reaching for your wrist and pulling you inside his apartment before you even had a chance to realize he’d grabbed you. He kicked the door shut and immediately pushed you up against it, his hips flush to yours, your arms forced above your head while he held them there in one of his. He was standing so close, his breath hot as it hit your lips, invading your personal space but you didn’t mind. You wanted him even closer. 

His other hand found its way to your chin, commanding your full attention again, and you were sure your knees would have buckled if he hadn’t been holding you up.

“I’ve been thinking about you all fucking day and I can’t wait any longer.”

He kissed you before you had even a second to register his words or respond, his lips moving eagerly, almost desperately against yours. It screamed urgency, and your first instinct wasn’t to kiss back, it was to pull away and make sure he was okay. There’d never been so much passion behind his kisses and you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad, couldn’t tell where his head was at and what was pushing him to kiss you like that.

But it seemed like he needed it, so you pushed your own desire to check in on him away for the upteenth time that night, giving into the part of yourself that just wanted to feel him against you, skin to skin.

Poe dropped your chin and his hand instantly moved to your chest, groping and kneading your breast through your shirt. You moaned against his lips, wanting to feel his calloused fingers on your bare skin more than anything but he was still holding your hands above your head and you couldn’t break free to rip your shirt off. You whined.

“What is it baby?” he cooed, sounding so smug and sure of himself as he pulled back to look at you, his brown eyes nearly black and he’d barely even started. “Tell me what you need.”

You tugged against his grip on your wrists, whining again but that wasn’t good enough.

“No no no baby,” he chuckled, shaking his head from side to side. “Good girls use their words, don’t they? And you’re a good girl.”

“Fuck,” you breathed. His words made you dizzy in the best possible way.

He squeezed your breast harder than he had been before, pulling another squeak and another moan from you. “Tell. Me.”

“I want you,” you whined, forcing yourself not to squirm against him. “I want your fingers.”

“You know that’s not how you ask baby.”

He was really trying to drive you insane, every word that left his mouth shot straight to your core and you would’ve clenched your thighs together if his leg wasn’t suddenly between them, as if he’d known what you were thinking. He knew your body better than you thought he did.

“Please sir, please I want your fingers. Please?” Your voice was only a whimper, so full of need.

“Good girl.”

Poe’s hand disappeared from your chest and you immediately missed the warmth and the weight of his touch, but you knew you wouldn’t have long to wait to feel it again.

“Move your hands and I’ll tie you to bed and leave you there ‘til morning, understood?”

You knew he meant it, you’d quickly learned that Poe didn’t tolerate disobedience or bratty behavior, and right then, you weren’t willing to risk your pleasure. You needed it, you needed him.

“Yes sir.”

He smirked gently, and his hand left your wrists. “You’re doing so fuckin’ good for me tonight babygirl.”

You felt his fingers grab the hem of your shirt, and he wasted no time in lifting it over your head, throwing it onto the ground beside your feet. He shifted slightly as he reached behind you to unclasp your bra, rubbing his thigh right against your clothed cunt, delivering just a small amount of friction but enough to make your breath catch in your throat.

“I love these fuckin’ tits,” he mumbled, pushing them together and really just playing with them in his hands, letting you feel his touch just like you wanted. “You’re so sexy baby.”

“Says you,” you countered, your breathing already labored.

He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head and leaning down to kiss across your chest, letting his tongue dart out and swipe across your nipples before he closed his lips around one of them, sucking gently. He was making it so entirely difficult for you to keep your hands in place.

“Jesus Christ, Poe.”

You could feel him smirk against you, his teeth scraping over your skin before he gave your other nipple the exact same treatment. He finally pulled off of you with a small pop, clearly satisfied with the responses he was pulling from you.

“I bet you want more, don’t you?” he purred, straightening himself up again, only stopping when his lips were an inch away from your own. “You want more than just my fingers, you want my cock too.”

He rubbed his thigh along you again, adding just a little more pressure than he had before, smirking when a small gasp left your lips and your eyes fluttered shut — he really was satisfied with himself, he loved watching all of the little things he could make your body do, loved listening to all of the noises you’d make for him.

“Don’t you?”

“Yes sir,” you whined, nodding your head hastily. “Yes sir, fuck, I want your cock.”

“I bet you don’t even need me to play with that pretty little pussy first, huh? I bet if I touched you right now, my fingers would come away soaked.”

He gripped your chin tightly between his fingers again, and for a second you didn’t think it would be possible for you to respond. It seemed like all you could do was whimper and whine and moan but somehow you managed to find your voice through the lust filled haze in your mind.

“Why don’t you find out?”

Poe’s grip tightened, just a bit, and he _growled_ before grabbing one of your wrists and dragging you further into the apartment. He took your words as a challenge.

And you were happy he did, because when he bent you over the side of the couch and yanked your jeans down and off your legs, you knew you were in for it. You knew he’d taste you and taste you and lick at your dripping pussy until you were shaking and crying and begging him to stop, until you were so sensitive you couldn’t possibly take anymore.

It was _exactly_ what you wanted.

* * *

It was almost three when Poe was finally finished with you, and you wanted nothing more than to just lay there and bask in the bliss of it all — your pleasure, his, the smell of his sheets and how his scent completely surrounded you. You thought you’d never felt so relaxed, so at ease, so-

Safe.

It felt safe. He felt safe.

And that’s exactly what pushed you to sit up after you spent a few minutes calming down, set on finding your clothes and getting out of there because if Poe knew that’s what you’d been thinking, you didn’t think he’d be very happy. It felt too close, too personal.

He just wanted sex.

But before you could get very far, you felt his hand encircle your wrist for the hundredth time that night, and it immediately made you stop in your tracks and glance over your shoulder towards him.

“Where are you going?” he asked, voice thick with exhaustion and bliss. He sounded so wrecked, looked so completely wrecked and you liked knowing that you were the one to do that to him.

“Home,” you said, shrugging your shoulders gently. “It’s late and-”

“Just stay.”

His words made your own falter, and you furrowed your eyebrows, blinking a few times as you tried to decide whether or not you heard him right. “Stay?”

“Stay.”

Poe was saying it like it was so simple, requesting it like it was nothing, but at the same time it still held that urgency he’d harbored all night.

“But we don’t do that.”

“Why?” It was his turn to shrug. “Like you said, it’s late. I’ve been balls deep inside of you, I’m sure we can handle sharing a bed.”

You bit your lip. He’d left your place when it had been just as late, you didn’t know what was so different now.

But sharing a bed with him, feeling safe for a while longer did sound nice. You nodded.

“Good,” he hummed, dropping your wrist and rolling himself out of bed. “You can shower while I make us something to eat if you want.”

You only nodded again, and Poe was out of the room right after telling you where the bathroom and extra towels were located, but you didn’t get up right away. You just continued to sit there, trying to remind yourself not to think too much about his behavior, You’d only end up hurting yourself in the long run.

He was just being kind. You might’ve been fucking, but you were still friends and he was just being friendly. That’s all it was, nothing more.

Just friends. Just sex.

_Just stay_.

He’d asked you to stay, and something about it felt _different_. You didn’t know why, didn’t know what it was. It just felt different, more meaningful than him simply asking you to stay and spend the night. The way his fingertips felt against your skin had been entirely electric.

But again, you had to remind yourself not to think too much about it. You couldn’t afford to. You liked having Poe in your life and he wasn’t worth risking.

You sighed gently, shaking your head as if that would help to clear your thoughts.

But they only returned later that night, when you were in his bed, in his clothes with his arm draped over your hip and his dog lying across your legs. It was all you could think about.

You wanted him, you’d finally come to terms with the fact that you wanted him. And you should be thrilled that he was treating you kindly, that he wanted a friendship with you, that he wanted to be close to you.

But you wanted _more_. God, you wanted more.

You wanted nights like this every night, you wanted to fall asleep in his clothes and in his arms and you wanted to feel _safe_ for once in your life.

Poe Dameron made you feel so fucking safe.


End file.
